


Lysatran Cuisine and Cake Obtention Strategy

by cathouse_mary



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Feasting, Fluff, Lysatran food, Thranto, such fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:35:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathouse_mary/pseuds/cathouse_mary
Summary: Eli gets a care package from home and cooks for his crewmates one of the most dangerous dishes in Lysatran cuisine.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Comments: 22
Kudos: 40





	Lysatran Cuisine and Cake Obtention Strategy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hydrophius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydrophius/gifts), [NemesisGray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NemesisGray/gifts).



> [Story is a continuation of this fic from Thrantovember](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27341128/chapters/67741933) and inspired by the nacho feast from last night as well as comments on same.

Eli Vanto is not on good terms with his family, and so when a coldcube of what can only be food arrives on the decks of the ISD _Chimaera_ it causes some puzzlement until he reads the logo. 

"It's from the Dorrisons on the _Yellow Rose_." Eli comms to Hammerly, swearing he can hear the spontaneous growling from the bridge crew's stomachs. "Miz Salyana sent me a birthday present."

"Change of watch is in fifteen minutes. I'll come and help." There's a few sounds on the other end of the comlink that Eli interprets as more volunteers. "Pyrondi is volunteering, too. Mom and Dad are coming, gotta go."

Eli really hopes that Faro and Thrawn never find out that the bridge crew has nicknamed them Mom and Dad. 

If he can make the ready room with the coldcube and start cooking, he can lock everyone out until he's done. However, everyone's got to stop and comment on the cube, Eli answers everyone politely because that's how his momma raised him. Due to the delays, Hammerly and Pyrondi have time to hunt him down. Nobody can say that the _Chimaera_ 's officer corps is not goal-oriented. 

"We can help!" And when you're between the devil (Hammerly) and the deep blue sea (Pyrondi), you've just got to go with it. They take off their tunics, fold so the rank plate is inside, and then pester him into doing the same. Eli lends them each a pair of exercise pants so that they don't get stains on the uniform and then they're off. 

Once the lid is off the cold cube, Eli's presented with an actual letter written on flimsi atop the cargo.

> _Dear Eli,_
> 
> _Remembering you on your birthday and hoping all's well. The Yellow Rose remembers you and your crewmates kindly, and wanted to make sure you got a proper birthday dinner. Why don't you cook up something nice for those pretty girls you work with? Make sure to tell them how nice Lysatran boys are because as hard-headed as your momma and daddy are, they raised you right._

The next five pages are pure gossip, and at the end of it is-

> _You know they love you. It's just that sometimes when parents want things to go a certain way for their child, they lose sight of what the child wants. Goodness, I'm proud as sin of you! Show those Innies how it's done, son._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Auntie Sally_

All right, maybe the spices are a little strong. Eli rubs his eyes while Hammerly and Pyrondi unpack the cube and both of them whoop when they find two cases of Longhorn Beer. Pyrondi fishes out the last of the items, pulling out a bottle of white _kila_ liquor, a bag of _liim_ fruit, and... a bar blender. 

"What does all of this make, Vanto?" Hammerly asks.

No joke, his crewmates will love and hate him for this one.

"Well, all this stuff over here makes a Lysatran dish called _yachos_. You take these chips, and you dress them with the meats, cheese, refried beans, chopped peppers, chopped veg, hot sauce, counter-cream, and mashed dragon-pears." Pyrondi moans and Hammerly licks her lips. "And this here is for a birthday cake called [Three Milks Chokkit](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/229054/chocolate-tres-leches-cake/). It's my favorite."

"And what about the white lightning in that bottle?" Pyrondi grins. 

"It's _kila_ \- brewed from a succulent that grows everywhere. Problem is that it would blow your boots and cap right off. You could use it for hyperdrive fuel." Eli scratches his head over that one - no hard stuff on deployment. "You squeeze the _liim_ fruit and blend it with ice and sugar. I'll have to put it somewhere safe and keep it for leave."

Cooking in the small galley goes fast. He takes charge of the four meats - _chikka_ , _isada_ , _nitas_ , and _rizo_ sausage. Hammerly handles the cake after looming over his shoulder while he unpacked the goods. And he's never, ever going to piss off Pyrondi because she is way, way too good with knives. "Thanks for helping me out."

Yissa Hammerly just grins, jostling him with her elbow. "I'm from Corulag, do you know how much bad luck it is to bake your own natal day cake?"

"And you can't touch knives on your birthing day; that's super awful luck for the rest of the year." Pyrondi nods, agreeing with Hammerly. "All your enemies will come after you."

"Are you Corulagi, too, Pyrondi?"

"Oh, Vanto. You sweet summer child." Hammerly's laughing like it's the best one she's heard yet.

"Nope - I'm Mid Rim. From Jegsziv - little iceball in the middle of nowhere." 

It's not bad, Eli thinks, having these two be friendly. Hammerly's been with them since the _Blood Crow_ , solidly in Thrawn's corner if not outgoing. Pyrondi was slightly antagonistic when they came to the _Chimaera_ , angry that Karyn Faro didn't get the ship instead of Thrawn. He's honestly more at ease here than he's ever been since leaving home. Pyrondi and Hammerly commiserate about family issues, banter with him, and he even offers - very tentatively at first - to play Grand Theft: Black Sun Rebellion with them. He had no idea that both of them are avid gamers. Did he just make some friends?

Honestly, with no rank insignias showing, it's great to just talk with them. He seems to be on their 'good guy' list, too.

Hammerly's comlink chimes and she answers. "Hammerly."

"Are you anywhere near done yet? There's a ravening horde in this corridor," Faro grumps. "We can smell it."

"Yes, Captain. It's Commander Vanto's natal day. We were giving him a hand in the galley." Hammerly lowers her voice and says darkly, "He was going to bake his own cake, sirs." 

Faro gasps, "Good thing you stopped him."

Skerris' voice butts in, "Knives? He didn't touch any, did he?"

"I got the sharp stuff!" Pyrondi calls out.

"It's almost ready." Eli leans in to the comlink. "Need about 20 more minutes."

Hammerly adds, "No sleeves."

"No sleeves, agreed." Faro responds. "Everyone, no sleeves party. Tunics off."

Okay, if Thrawn's in this one Eli's going to be facing down those arms and shoulders in a Navy-issue sleeveless black undershirt. Good thing they're not opening the _kila_.

"No-sleeves parties are where there's no rank. Everyone leaves their tunics and rank badges at the door." Pyrondi whispers. "It's a loophole in the regs."

Eli thinks thirty minutes later that it's more like a dorm party. He explains that you stick the serving scoop into a pile of _yachos_ , dump it on a plate, then dress it with the condiments, grab a handful of napkins and dig in. Chase it with the beer that has a little wedge of _liim_ in it.

Thrawn hits the brakes. "You have to have a bite of the cake first, fed to you by four friends or good luck won't come in the next year."

Faro snorts, "That sounds like something someone made up so they could eat cake first."

After some amount of argument - and agreements not to smash Eli's face into the cake - Eli agrees to Thrawn, Faro, Hammerly, and Pyrondi feeding him four bites.

Thrawn is first, a bite of the dark, moist cake on a fork placed with care in Eli's mouth. "Luck come to you."

Faro does the same only adding, "And the year be sweet."

Hammerly wishes him a full belly and full purse, too. 

Pyrondi wishes him luck, and hopes that he gets lucky.

Eli blushes and immediately comes in for most of the males in the room ruthlessly ribbing him for it. Some of the females socking the males in the nearest available body part and assert that some women like a man with a sense of modesty. The argument is cut short by Thrawn's stomach actually growling like an angry rock leopard. 'Mom and Dad' go first, and look around for utensils - finding only napkins. 

"Sorry, party people. _Yachos_ are fingers-and-a-pack-of-napkins food." Eli is already anticipating his first bite in ten years. "Dig in!"

And dig in they do with enough delighted moaning that Eli will never blush again, accompanied by crunching chips and swigs of beer.

"What did you get, Yissa?"

" _Rizo_ \- it's a spicy sausage."

"I got _chikka_. Want some?"

His crewmates trade off feeding each other, licking sauce and toppings off each others fingers with abandon. Eli's going to be surprised if anyone here goes to bed alone. The solid crew of the good ship Chimaera are disciplined and professions soldiers who have significant chaotic streaks. The piles of _yachos_ steadily diminish until the great truth of Lysatran _yachos_ is evident.

By the time your body tells you that you're full, you've already had way, way too much.

Eli sees it ripple around the room. Glazed eyes, hands on bellies, swilling down the last of a beer to make room and tamp it down. Groans. 

"I can't eat another bite."

"I'll explode if I do."

"It was delicious and now it's killing me."

"I'm not going to eat for three days."

Yissa Hammerly staggers to the couch and lies down on it with a sigh of relief. "I think I'm becoming comatose."

Thrawn chides, "Eli Vanto, you did not say that this was _gha'srovik_." His eyelids look heavy and the third eyelid is sleep-droopy.

"What's _gha'srovik_ , sir?" Truth to tell, Eli's feeling the _yachos_ like he's eaten two bricks.

"It translates as 'violent food' - when you eat it, it knocks you down."

Eli casts a covetous eye at that cake, his very favorite, and Thrawn snorts. "I see now. Stuff everyone senseless and there's more cake for you. Excellent strategy."

"Crafty, Vanto, very crafty." Pyrondi grumbles. "Though for that cake, I'd do it, too."

"There's no way that cake is going to fit inside me. I miscalculated my _yachos_ storage." Lying down sounds so good right now.

"We're going to be digesting like squeezers," Faro groans. 

"How about a deal? Cake for firstmeal." Hammerly murmurs sleepily.

Eli slowly slides down in his chair, the food coma taking him under.

Thrawn catches him and pulls Eli up by the back of his undershirt. "Faro, secure the cake."

"Sir." It takes Faro a significant effort to get out of the chair. "It was delicious, Vanto, but I am never doing that again."

"I will, but next time I'll know when to stop." Pyrondi pushes herself to her feet with the aid of the table and reaches for hers and Hammerly's uniforms. "Vanto, we'll get you your exercise pants back next mainwatch."

"Now Vanto can claim that Hammerly and Pyrondi have been in his pants." Skerris then has to a handle a volley of incoming used napkins and assorted boos.

"Conduct unbecoming, Skerris." Thrawn's voice is sharp.

"Not to mention creepy." Hammerly has managed standing with assistance from Pyrondi.

The other men in the room thank Eli and wish him whatever is appropriate in their traditions, then they leave fast before they can get sucked into the incipient argument. Skerris gets capital stink-eye from Commander Talya Ayres - the bridge's flight officer. 

The crowd breaks up, and Thrawn advises the droids to handle the cleanup while steering Eli to his quarters. 

Wait. 

Not to Eli's quarters. 

_Well. Happy birthday to me._


End file.
